


Would Recommend to a Friend

by Kacka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy is terrified of his new housemates, and the fact that they're all friends with his sister-- who isn't currently speaking to him-- doesn't help matters. Luckily, his new barista friend happens to have some sway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would Recommend to a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping they'd deal with Octavia's abuse on the show better, but from the way s3 ended and some things said at sdcc, it doesn't seem like that's the vibe rn.

Bellamy is torn about his new housing situation.

On the one hand, he understands that he doesn’t have to be friends with his new housemates. He knows it would make his life easier but since he can’t really get any of them to give him the time of day, he could just find a social life elsewhere and not put an unreciprocated amount of work into befriending them.

On the other hand, he’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide and a history of rankling when people tell him there’s something he can’t do. The more of a challenge it is, the more rewarding it’ll be when they give in and accept his friendship. Additionally, they’re the only people he knows in town, and they seem like they’re awesome, albeit the most terrifying people he’s ever met.

Lincoln is the least fearsome out of all of them, not because he couldn’t physically rip him apart-- Bellamy’s pretty sure he could do it without breaking a sweat-- but because he’s the one Bellamy knows the best.

The only reason Bellamy found this housing at all when he moved to Ark U for his grad program, is because Lincoln is dating Octavia and she’d happened to know that her boyfriend needed one last room filled in his house so they could all afford the rent, and her brother needed somewhere to live. She’d been reluctant to put them in touch-- they’re probably on worse terms now than they’ve ever been-- but in the end decided that she didn’t want either of them broke or homeless.

Still, she hadn’t been happy about it, so even though Bellamy knows Lincoln to be a laid back, perceptive, decent guy, he distances himself. He wants his sister to have her person, and if it can’t be him, he thinks Lincoln is an okay substitute. Plus, it means she’s coming over a lot, and the ice has to thaw sometime.

The rest of the house Bellamy knows in bits and pieces, scraps he’s picked up from the few days he’s lived there.

There’s Lexa, who’s studying to get her master’s in theater and chooses words with such precision that Bellamy wouldn’t be surprised to find she’s speaking in meter. She has a battle axe hanging on the wall in her room that’s either a prop from one of her shows or a threat to all who may enter unbidden.

Anya is a couple of years ahead of him in her Classics studies, swears frequently and proficiently in three different languages, and can drink anyone else under the table. She and Lexa have a YouTube channel where they give makeup tips like a general might command an army. An army of soldiers who can achieve the perfect smoky eye.

Indra is the oldest, en route to becoming a physical therapist. She’s got a shrewd gaze and the only words she’s ever spoken in front of Bellamy have been Sun Tzu quotes. The only other thing he’s managed to find out about her is that she TA’s for some of Octavia’s classes and has become the object of his sister’s hero-worship.

Nyko is the last of his new housemates, a medical student who has a face tattoo and shares an intense workout routine with Lincoln. His cabinet in the kitchen is filled with protein powder and stockpiles of vitamins that, according to Lincoln, he force-feeds to anyone in the house who gets sick. Bellamy thinks it’s less because Nyko is a natural caretaker and more because his studies don’t afford him any sick days. He doesn’t want to catch anything you have.

Suffice it to say, they seem like the kind of people he’d like-- combative and intensely driven-- but he’s also a little bit scared for his life and looking for any reason to get himself out of the house in the few weeks he has left before classes start.

So he does what anyone would do in this day and age: he gets really into Pokemon Go.

It’s pretty nice, actually, to get to know his way around town a little without aimlessly wandering. To be out in the sunshine, nodding at other players as he passes them, instead of playing video games in his room as an excuse to hide from his housemates. About three days in, he finds a coffee shop called Grounders that is not only a PokeStop but seems to have a lure at it nearly every day, and is, most importantly, air-conditioned.

“Catch anything good?” The barista asks when he walks in.

It’s pretty slow at the moment, and he’s staring blatantly at his phone in suspense as he waits to see whether the Goldeen he just captured will stay in his Pokeball or not, so of course she would ask. He looks up with a sheepish smile.

“Just now, or ever?” He asks, pocketing his phone. Without turning it off. He needs one of his eggs to hatch.

“Let’s go with ever.” She’s got her blonde hair pulled away from her face, clear blue eyes, and she smiles like she’s laughing with him instead of at him, and that seals the deal for Bellamy. He’s definitely coming back here.

“Nothing great,” He admits. “I think the best thing I’ve got is a Raticate, and it’s only because my house seems to have some kind of infestation. But I only started playing four days ago so I’m still pretty new at this.”

“What took you so long?” She teases. “The game’s been out for two and a half weeks…”

“Bellamy.”

“Clarke. What’s the holdup, Bellamy?”

He knows he’s grinning disproportionately but she’s cute and he hasn’t had anyone speak to him like a person since he moved to town, so he’ll give himself a pass on this one.

“I’m one of those people who is resistant to change and innately suspicious of all new technological crazes,” he admits, and is gratified when she laughs.

“But you caved?”

“Yeah, well. I just moved here and it turns out that my housemates are terrifying.”

She raises a single eyebrow in response, which is impressive. He’s always wished he could do that.

“I don’t think there’s a single one of them I could take in a fight, but only half of them seem like they wouldn’t be troubled to kill a man. So I think my odds are pretty good? Either way, I figured it might be good for me to get out of the house some.”

“So you gave in to your survival instincts.”

“And a heavy dose of nostalgia,” he nods. “I have some readings and stuff to do before the semester starts. Maybe I’ll hole up here instead of in my room, so at least I can be--”

“Catching something other than Raticate?”

"Exactly. You’ve got coffee and Pokemon. What else is there?”

He starts spending a lot of time at Grounders, prepping for classes, reaping the bounty of a lure, and strategizing about how to get on his housemates’ good sides. He also gets to flirt with Clarke a fair amount. She’ll drop by his table when things are slow and help him come up with nicknames for his Pokemon, or she’ll settle in across from him on her breaks with a lemonade in one hand and her phone in the other so she can catch her own.

She’s already sitting at a table one day when he walks in and she smiles brightly at him when he immediately changes course to join her.

"Act fast and you can get the Pidgey that just showed up.”

“Yeah, because if there’s one thing I’m running low on, it’s Pidgey candy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“It’s gotta catch ‘em all, Bellamy. Not gotta catch ‘em some.”

A smile pulls at his lips and he shakes his head. This has been an ongoing argument between them: whether catching them all means catching one of each type, or catching literally every Pokemon they see. He finds himself on different sides depending on the day, mostly because Clarke keeps switching. She seems to like arguing just for the fun of it, and, well, Bellamy thinks she might be the perfect woman.

He’s about to reply when someone goes, “Bell?” And it’s the one voice he knows better than any other. He looks around in surprise, runs a hand through his hair nervously when he sees his sister and Lincoln standing by the door.

“Hey.”

“Bellamy,” Lincoln says, nodding at him. Then, to Bellamy’s surprise, “Hey Clarke.”

“What are you guys up to?” Bellamy asks, kicking himself internally for being an idiot. He could have come up with something better than that. It’s Octavia. He’s never not known how to talk to Octavia.

"Caffeinating,” she says, her voice flat. “I see you’ve met our friendly neighborhood Clarke.”

“Not on shift today?” Lincoln asks Clarke, cutting off whatever either of the Blakes were about to say. He’s gotten pretty good at defusing awkward tension.

“Nope,” Clarke says, cheerful. It sounds forced. “Hanging out. Couldn’t leave my favorite customer friendless and alone.”

"I’m not alone, I’ve got my Raticate army to keep me company.”

"Oh, so I should leave?” She teases. Her tone sounds more real now, but Bellamy can’t shake the feeling of his sister’s eyes on him.

"No, you should stay,” he says, sure he sounds off. Her expression flickers and he knows she heard it too. “You guys should hang out too,” he tells his sister. “If you want.”

“We have somewhere to be,” she lies. Bellamy’s heart twists. He raised her. It’s not like he doesn’t know when she’s lying. “This is just a pit stop. But-- You two have fun.”

“Good to see you, Clarke,” Lincoln adds. “Later, Bellamy.”

Bellamy stares pointedly down at his phone until they leave, but he knows Clarke isn’t going to let it drop.

"How do you know Lincoln?” She asks, throwing him off guard a little. He’d been building up defenses against Octavia questions and here Clarke is attacking from the left.

"He’s one of my scary housemates,” he says, giving her a wry smile in an effort to make it a joke.

“Huh.” Clarke grins. “I can see that. Not Lincoln, necessarily, but the others I get. I met a lot of them when I went out with Lexa some last year. And Nyko is in my program.”

"You’re a med student?” Bellamy asks, surprised.

“I know it’s hard to picture me with a life outside Grounders, but I don’t just stop existing,” she teases, knocking her knee against his under the table. He tries very hard not to blush. He’s twenty six. He shouldn’t be giddy like this over a girl.

“I figured you were like Pokemon,” he says, knocking her knee right back. “Get too far away from this place and you just disappear.”

Clarke smiles.

"I’m the one who’s in good with your housemates, so if you want my help you’d better be nicer to me. What’s your current game plan to win them over?”

“Bonding over things we have in common. Have you never made a friend before?”

“Exhibit A,” she says, gesturing to Bellamy himself. “How’s it working for you so far?”

“Not great,” he admits. “I’ve started running with Lincoln and Nyko in the mornings, but it’s hard to properly motivate myself to get up before the sun when I don’t have class or any kind of time constraints.”

"Also, it involves running. Which, ew. What else?”

“Well, I strategically left my anthology of Greek plays where I thought Anya or Lexa might see it.”

“Sneaky,” Clarke laughs. “How’d it work out for you?”

"All it got me was a scolding for cluttering up the common areas,” Bellamy admits, and she laughs harder. “But I don’t think Anya actually knew I existed before that, so I’m counting it a win.”

“As well you should.” She bites her lip in thought, which is very distracting. “I’m probably the best card in your hand right now. They all know me and like me-- Well, Indra doesn’t really like me, but she respects me.”

“What are you suggesting? I start dropping your name into conversations I’m not having with them?”

“No, you’re right. I’ll probably have to come hang out with you at your house.”

"What a sacrifice,” Bellamy says, trying not to get too excited. It was her idea to hang out together outside of Grounders, but only because she thinks he’s pathetic and needs help getting in with his housemates. Which he is, and he does, so he really can’t complain about the way it’s happening.

"Yeah, it’s a real hardship,” she snorts. “It’s like a celebrity endorsement. There’s a product I use sometimes and like well enough, so I don’t mind telling other people it, you know, has some merit.”

"Gee, thanks.” Bellamy is laughing, which really undermines his sarcasm. “Good thing I’m friends with a celebrity.”

"Yeah,” Clarke says, grinning at him. “You really lucked out.”

After that, it’s like Clarke has an open invitation to always be at his house. She’ll follow him home when her shift is over, or she’ll show up randomly whether or not he’s around, and sit on their couch and bring leftovers from the pastry case and just-- hang. She’ll keep one eye on Netflix and one on her app, trying to get every Raticate that inevitably pops up, and it’s pretty incredible the way she can draw even the prickliest of his roommates into conversation.

“I don’t think my hair can do the thing,” she tells Lexa one afternoon as she passes through, referencing the last video they released. They’ve branched out into braids that demand surgical dexterity and a vivid imagination, and since they started, bobby pins and hair ties have become more pervasive than Pidgeys.

"Of course it can,” Lexa says, sighing in exasperation. “I’ll show you. Move to the floor.”

And suddenly Clarke is leaning against his legs and Bellamy is trying to follow along with Lexa’s hair as she talks him through it step by step while Clarke snags Raticates on all three phones.

Of course, that’s when Octavia comes in.

“What the hell is happening?” She at least sounds more bewildered than angry, which is a positive development, Bellamy thinks.

“I’m teaching your brother to braid,” Lexa says, like it’s the most normal thing ever and she didn’t hate him just twenty minutes ago. “He’s doing quite well.”

“I already knew how to braid,” he protests. “I did O’s hair for years. We just never got this intricate.”

“Because you were in middle school and you were a brat,” Octavia says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where’s Lincoln?”

“I think he’s in the basement.” Bellamy looks to Lexa. “Do they have weights down there, or is Nyko just really unsatisfied with the arrangement of his furniture?”

“Almost certainly weights,” she answers, and then her hands still. “That was funny.”

Bellamy cracks a smile.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He twists around to say something else to Octavia, but she’s already gone.

“You’re done, Clarke,” Lexa announces, standing and offering her a hand up. “It’s not your hair that won’t do the thing; it’s user error. I am sure Bellamy can do an adequate job next time you wish to try one of our techniques.”

“I’m sure he can,” Clarke says, offering Lexa a small smile. “Have fun on your date.”

“Same to you.” She’s gone before Bellamy can correct her, but Clarke doesn’t even open her mouth to try, just settles back in next to Bellamy like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Can I ask about the Octavia thing?” She says, pulling at the braid like she wants it out but going about it all wrong. Bellamy bats her hands away and starts unwinding it from the bottom, combing his fingers through as he goes. She leans closer but stays quiet, waiting.

He considers not telling her. It’s not like they’re close; he imprinted on her, he’s pretty sure. She’s the first person he really met here. But she’s also smart and honest and his gut tells him that he can trust her, which is not something his gut says lightly.

“Hot tempers kind of run in our family,” he says eventually. Therapy has never been something he could afford on a regular basis, but the counselor in high school took a personal interest after his fifth or sixth black eye, so it’s not like he’s never talked about it. “I don’t think O remembers a time when I wasn’t-- A time before I got my growth spurts and could stand up for us, but my mom didn’t always manage her anger very well.”

He pauses. Clears his throat.

“You don’t have to,” Clarke says, her hand finding his knee.

“No, it’s fine.” He’s running his fingers through her hair now, but he can’t make himself stop. It’s silky and soft and making her melt into him in a comforting way.

“O had a stretch of bad days a few months ago that culminated in a pretty ugly bar brawl. She’d been out with some girls, and some guys were saying things she didn’t like.” He shrugs. “I maybe should’ve taken her at her word when she said it was justified, but I could see-- Mom always felt justified, too. So I told her I thought she should get into an anger management program.”

“She didn’t take it well?”

“No.” He sighs. “When I moved in, I think she was expecting an apology or for me to sweep it under the rug. I told her I still thought she should talk to someone, but that I wasn’t going to push her on it, and I think she doesn’t really know what to do with that. So. Awkwardness.”

Clarke is quiet for a moment.

“You said you don’t think she remembers that time well. Do you think-- I mean, could she think--”

“That I’m just overreacting?” Bellamy shrugs. “Maybe. I didn’t think I needed to explain where I was coming from.”

“But if she doesn’t remember--”

“Yeah.” He grows quiet. “We’ll get through it. Right?”

Clarke pats his knee and starts to move her hand away, which ignites a sharp flare of disappointment until he realizes she’s taking his hand instead.

“I’ve never had a sibling,” she says, lacing their fingers together. “And my family is screwed up in a really different way than yours was, so I’m not an expert or anything, but it feels like you’re trying to do the right thing.”

He doesn’t trust himself to say anything, so he just squeezes her hand.

“If you think a celebrity endorsement would help,” she says, after a beat, and the tension breaks. A chuckle slips loose before he even registers it.

"Don’t worry, I know who to call.”

“Good.”

Nothing changes tangibly between him and Clarke in the wake of that conversation. She still comes over all the time, he still visits her at work a lot. When school starts, he sees less of her because their class schedules are at odds, but then she joins Nyko’s study group and she’s always around making Bellamy quiz them with flashcards like some kind of ultra-competitive, non-family-friendly game show. They don’t get bogged down in heavy conversation, and she hasn’t elaborated on the ways her own family is screwed up, but if he were stranded in a ditch she’d be one of the first people he’d call, and he hopes she feels the same way.

Things don’t change much between him and his sister either, to his dismay, until a few weeks later when he comes home to find her sitting on his bed.

“Did you know you’ve got a pest problem?” She asks, holding up her phone to show him the Raticate she just caught. “Good thing I took care of it for you.”

It’s not as natural as it used to be, but she’s trying. So he smiles and plops down next to her.

“Real selfless, O. Just remember who used to come running when you’d find a spider in the house.”

"That’s different. Spiders are--”

“Real?”

"Icky,” she finishes, wrinkling her nose. “Besides, I’m an adult now. I can take care of my own creepy-crawlies.”

Bellamy gives her a dubious look.

"Okay,” she relents. “I make my roommate get them for me, but I wasn’t really talking about spiders, Bell.”

“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I know you’re an adult and I know you can handle a lot. I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life.”

"Then why--”

"Do you remember Mom’s boyfriend Stan?”

Octavia blinks, caught off guard.

"Maybe. How old was I?”

“Like four or five? He wasn’t around for long, but when he left, he took her stash. She thought you or I took it, and she was… pretty pissed.”

Octavia’s breath catches.

“I’m not Mom,” she says quietly, but the anger doesn’t feel directed at him anymore. He grabs her hand and smiles gently at her.

"I know you’re not. She couldn’t take responsibility for herself, much less the two of us, and you’re-- You said it yourself. You’re an adult, and you can handle just about anything. But I get nervous about this stuff. And I won’t apologize for that.”

“Better too cautious than too careless.”

“You can put that on my tombstone,” he says, letting his smile widen. It’s what he’d told her about drugs and alcohol when she went to high school, because that, like the anger that sits just beneath their skin, is another danger they inherited from their mother. “Like I said, I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t feel like you need. But I also don’t think it would be bad to see… if it could help. To learn how to not need it. Ever.”

Octavia nods, and he feels a little less hollow when she tucks her feet under her knees and rests her head on his shoulder, curled up like she used to when they were little.

"I need to think about it,” she tells him. “But if I went, would you come with me?”

“It’d probably do me some good too, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He nods, knowing she can feel it against the top of her head.

“I’ll come. If you want. You should talk it over with Lincoln, see what he thinks.”

“Yeah?”

“You guys are pretty serious, right?” He can feel her smile against his shoulder and it’s like another piece coming back to him, making him feel whole again. “He’s been a lot more present than I have, the past few months. Even since I moved here. He might have seen things we haven’t.”

Octavia pushes back to look at him.  
“You never like my boyfriends,” she accuses, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”

“He comes with a pretty good recommendation.”

“Whose--” Octavia cuts herself off with a snort. “Oh, Clarke’s recommendation? Yeah, you’re not subtle, Bell. At all. Besides, the whole house thinks you’re dating.”

“Who says we’re not?” He challenges, smirking.

“Please.” She gives him a good-natured nudge to the shoulder. “I know you, Bellamy Blake. Better than anyone else.” She eyes him. “But you should get on that, asap. You snooze, you lose, big brother.”

And he smiles, because he missed even this.

He’s still smiling when he strolls into Grounders a few minutes before close.

“Sorry, we’re--” Clarke starts, breaking off with an eye roll when she sees who it is. “Of course. I was wondering what kind of asshole would come in when I’ve already started cleaning the espresso machine.”

“Good thing I didn't come for coffee, then."

"No?" He doesn't think he's exaggerating when he says she lights up. At least, he hopes not.

"I came to present my case."

"Your case?" She frowns.

"For why you should date me," he clarifies, and a grin breaks, slow and steady across her face. "You see, I have another celebrity endorsement."

"Who?"

"Octavia." Her smile softens and he ducks his head. "We talked. It helped, what you suggested. You were right."

"I'm glad," she says, coming around the counter. "But can I point out, for future reference, that having your sister recommend you to someone you want to date is maybe a little too George R.R. Martin?"

Bellamy laughs and catches her by the waist when she loops her arms around his neck and presses in close.

"Noted," he says, but it doesn't feel true. He doesn't say it, not now, but he's really hoping there won't be a need for any future referencing. Things at the house are looking up (Anya even asked him what kind of beer she should stock for him. It was a landmark moment), he and Octavia are better, and he likes Clarke more than he can really understand for having only known her a few weeks. He doesn't want to get ahead of himself, but he's kind of hoping this is it.

And, as it turns out, it is.


End file.
